Page 33 of A Very No Strings Halloween
And Piper is so cute. She has long, dark brown hair with bangs, black-rimmed glasses, and the wide, innocent eyes of a doe—if that doe was super into hot guys’ butts. She’s wearing a sweater and wool coat with a plaid miniskirt and thick black tights. She’s carrying a huge weekender bag around even though she isn’t staying the night, but she brought three big hardcover books by her favorite romantasy author. Because romantasy is a thing now, I guess?
I can’t tell if she’s more excited that she got one of her favorite authors to sign her books at the reading or that she’s in Cambridge, surrounded by young men in jeans, blazers, and peacoats. But if I could be even tenpercent as excited about anything as she is about everything, it would be so much easier to face each day.
While she was attending the ticketed event in a theater, Billy and I waited for her in the tiny lobby. Not because she asked us to and not because people are allowed to loiter in the small lobby. Because Billy wanted to be there to rescue Piper in case there was a fire or a really good-looking drunk Harvard guy hitting on her during the daytime literary event.
It was the most time I’ve ever spent with him without talking. I mean, not counting the times I’ve had his cock in my mouth. He had zero chill as he sat there, probably imagining a bunch of trust-fund guys gangbanging her during the reading or something. I honestly don’t know what he thought would happen in there, but he was very relieved to see her walking out, finally, with a huge smile on her sweet face and her arms around three books instead of frat boys.
Now we’re walking through Harvard Square, down the brick-paved sidewalks, to a bar that Billy says he worked at “five or ten years ago” so he knows the owner and can get Piper in to drink hot chocolate. Did I calmly mention to him that if he were, in fact, dating a single mom it would not be a great idea to take her underage daughter to a bar, even though he’s only going to buy her hot chocolate? I did. Do I think Piper is going to love going to a bar in Harvard Square andwish I had a sort-of-uncle like Billy when I was growing up? I do. Piper’s going to have so much to brag about with her friends.
And honestly, I’m happy because I can’t remember the last time I just walked around on a day off. It’s my favorite month and it’s a beautiful, crisp fall day. The leaves are changing, it’s boot season, and everything smells like pumpkin spice. Harvard Square is vibrant and bustling and almost has as much energy as Piper when she’s explaining her favorite book series to us.
“So, book one is calledRiders of Storm and Fireand it’s an epic, spicy story centered on a group of dragon riders—mainly Zephyr and Ember. There’s a movie in development, and it will go into production next year! They still haven’t found a young actor swoony enough to play Zephyr, because Zac Efron is too old now, unfortunately. I’m going as Ember for Halloween and I have an orange wig—not natural red like your hair, but like the color of cartoon fire, if you know what I mean.”
“I do, and that will look hot with your complexion.”
She blushes. “I guess.”
“She wears pants, right? Ember wears baggy pants and a long, heavy sweater?” Billy asks, but he’s really telling her.
“They’re pants, yeah, but they’re really tight, like the sweater.”
“Absolutely not, young lady.”
She rolls her eyes at him. “Dragon riders have to wear tight clothes because of the wind.”
“Obvi. Keep telling us about Zephyr and Ember,” I say, while narrowing my eyes at Billy.
“OMG, Zephyr is so hot. He’s six foot five and has long wavy chestnut-brown hair and ocean eyes with flecks of silver. He has a strong yet lean build with rippling muscles. He is very calm and broody and analytical but also a total badass when it comes to protecting the people he cares about. He’s an alpha in the streetsandthe sheets! Not OTT alpha, though, and the balance of power between him and Ember is chef’s kiss!”
“Nice,” I say, even though I have no idea what OTT means.
“Sounds like a dick to me,” Billy mutters. “And if he’s six foot five why isn’t he playing basketball instead of riding a dragon? I don’t trust this guy. He makes bad life choices.”
“Billy!” I hiss.
“And Ember is really passionate and brilliant when it comes to riding and understanding her dragon. There’s so much tension and banter between her and Zephyr at first and then so much mutual respect, and they just struggle so much with their loyalty to their factions and their growing attraction to each other!” Piper looks like she’s about to burstinto flames as she hugs her bag full of books to her chest.
“Sounds delicious.”
“What are you lookin’ at?” Billy says to a couple of undergrad guys who pass by. “She’s sixteen—keep movin’!”
I keep glancing over at Piper when he does this, to see if she’s horrified or embarrassed, and it looks to me like she’s just used to it. She must have a lot of men in her family looking out for her. She just turns her head to check out those guys’ butts as they walk away. “Anyway, I can’t believe I finally got to meet Rachel Balfour. She was so friendly for someone who hates New Yorkers for sports reasons.”
“Hey, that is an excellent reason to hate New Yorkers,” Billy says as he keeps his eye on a forty-year-old man who’s walking toward us. “I hate all New Yorkers except the ones I’m related to. And even they’re assholes. Except you, Piper. And Maddie and Cora. And your mom. Am I related to her too? I can’t keep track.”
“Thanks. And I guess so, but my mom’s super basic, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, we’re here.” Billy stops in front of an Irish dive bar and opens the door for us. “Don’t make eye contact with any of the guys in here except me,” he says to Piper. “You got it?” Then he looks at me. “Same goes for you, young lady.” He winks.
I gotta say, the wink really does it for me. “Absolutely not, young man” is my reply.
The place is pretty busy for a Saturday afternoon. Decorated for Halloween and blaring country music from a jukebox. It’s an Irish pub, but it’s still hard to imagine Billy working here. Why an Irish pub in Harvard Square of all places, when he could have worked at one in any Boston neighborhood? He is just full of surprises. I mean, the guy drives a Volvo, for crying out loud, which is pretty much the last kind of vehicle I’d expect him to drive. If he told me he drove a parade float everywhere I’d be less surprised.
Billy walks into the pub like he owns the place. I now think this is probably how he walks into every place. He does some crazy handshake with an elderly man behind the bar, who is perhaps the actual owner, leans in to chat with him, gets a nod, then waves Piper and me over. “Have a seat, ladies.” He gestures for Piper to sit at one of the empty barstools, and I take a seat next to her while Billy encourages a couple of college guys to move away from the bar and sit at a table that has just opened up.
Then he places his jacket over the stool next to Piper, goes behind the bar, rolls up his sleeves, and gets to work. “Okay, I ordered us some finger food. Virgin hot chocolate for the lovely young lady from the town with the Football Team Who Shall Not Be Named. And what can I make for the lovely young ladyfrom the other town with the Other Football Team Who Shall Not Be Named?”
“Surprise me,” I say, because I know he will.
